The Big Little Things in Life
by DetectiveInspectorSydney
Summary: Ron muses over Harry's reaction to staying at the Weasley's. (Harry/Ron) Quidditch League Competition Round 1 Caerphilly Catapults.


**A/N: I'm here in capacity as 3rd Chaser for the Caerphilly Catapults Round 1! (I requested an extension, and if you need proof of that let me know. This is a little over 1,00 words, if you need proof of that, let me know.) My prompts were to write for Chaser One's NOTP, in this case Harry/Ron. My additional prompts were apple, liar, and "The thing about people is that they forget that most of the time it's the small things that count." I hope you enjoy! Here's to a great season! *raises invisible glass of Madame Rosmerta's Oak Matured Mead***

Ron stumped in through the back door. "Don't track that dirt into my kitchen!" his mother's voice rang in his ears. He kicked off his wellies on the back stoop, squinting in the sunlight as he watched Harry, Fred, and George trailing far behind him. They'd been playing two-aside Quidditch in the orchard with apples that had _already fallen from the trees_ , per Mrs. Weasley's insistence. Now Ron watched as his best friend and older brothers debated the viability of a new strategy Oliver had pitched the team last year while Harry had been recovering from his encounter with Quirrell and You-Know Who. Ron shook his head in bemusement as he lowered himself into a kitchen chair.

"So, Harry's settling in nicely." His mother's voice broke into his thoughts again.

"Hmm?" Ron replied dazedly, as he watched Harry and the twins move closer to the back door through the kitchen window.

Mrs. Weasley flicked her wand at the cutting board and a knife began peeling and chopping carrots. She then moved to take the seat opposite her youngest son, who was still staring out the window. Fred and George had halted, and one of them had gotten on a broom seemingly to demonstrate whatever they'd been describing to Harry back in the orchard. "I said, 'Harry seems like he's settling in well." Ron finally looked up at her.

"Oh. Yeah. He said the Burrow's the best house he's ever been in. I think he actually enjoyed degnoming the garden." Ron's grimace made his mother laugh, the sound mingling with Fred, George, and Harry's laughter as they came through the back door.. Ron was not used to thinking of Harry as tall, but clearly he'd grown some over the summer, as the twins only seemed to have a head or so on him. He was sunburned, but Ron thought Harry looked happier than he'd ever seen him.

"All right you lot," Ron's mother was now ushering him out of his chair, "supper should be on the table within the hour. Go upstairs and get washed off. Eat in your pajamas for all I care, just don't come back down looking like you've wrestled with a graphorn." Ron followed Harry back up to his room.

"Right," he said, and Harry turned around to look at him, "well, there's a bathroom on every floor but mine, so you take the fourth floor, and I'll go downstairs shall I?" He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of how awkward he was being.

"Uhm...fine," said Harry, eyeing him quizzically. Ron crossed the room to retrieve his pajamas, and when he crossed back, Harry's hand closed around his arm. Ron felt his face get red again.

"Thanks, Ron." Ron glanced down, unable to make eye contact.

He shrugged, muttering, "I didn't do anything," and Harry's grip loosened. Ron could feel heat radiating off his face.

"No, I mean it," Harry insisted, "you didn't have to rescue me from the Dursleys."

"Come off it," Ron said, as he reached the top step, "what are friends for?"

But Ron couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. All throughout dinner he watched Harry, who smiled more than Ron remembered. He vainly tried to wave off a third helping of stew from Ron's mother, (and Ron had to agree with her, he did seem scrawny) and tried to explain to Mr. Weasley why one doesn't need to shout into a telephone, though to Ron it looked like he wasn't entirely sure himself. After two slices of rhubarb pie, Harry gave a great yawn, which prompted Mrs. Weasley to insist that he go on up to bed. Harry protested that he had offered to help Ron with the dishes, but was having none of it."It's all right," Mr. Weasley cut in, "I'd be happy to help Ron, Molly." Harry turned to Ron, who shrugged (privately thinking that his father was still trying to make up for the flying car), and so Harry went, with a contented, if slightly confused, smile on his face.

Ron stared down at the plate he was drying, his brow furrowed. "What's on your mind Ron?" Ron bit his tongue, and narrowed his eyes further, trying to come up with an acceptable answer to his father's inquiry.

"Harry," he said, finally.

Apparently this revelation was not at all shocking to Mr. Weasley, who simply replied, "What about him?" Ron heaved a sigh.

"He's happy here."

"So? Why shouldn't he be?"

"I mean he's really happy here. He told me this is the best house he's ever been in. I mean, Dad he's the Boy-Who-Lived. He's defeated You-Know-Who twice! _And_ he's got enough money at Gringott's to buy a whole trolley's worth of sweets. What's so special about the Burrow…about us?"

"Hmmmm," Mr. Weasley nodded, "you mean what's so special about you?" Ron's ears were definitely pink, but if his father noticed, he didn't comment. "You know Harry better than I do. Do you think he's a liar?" Ron jumped a little, startled by the question.

"No, of course not," he blurted, Mr. Weasley's eyebrows rose slightly, Ron sighed again, "I don't think he's lying, I just don't get it."

"I've heard your mother say before that the problem with people is that they forget that most of the time it's the small things that count. I think that's what you're missing. You look around here and see all the things we don't have," Ron flushed in embarrassment, but his father only smiled kindly at him, "all the stuff we can't afford, but what about the immaterial?" Ron didn't really see where his father was going with this but he chose not to interrupt. Mr. Weasley changed tact. "How much do you know about Harry's life with the muggles?" This question caught Ron a bit by surprise.

"Uhm, they're pretty horrible. He doesn't talk about them much, but when Fred and George and I went to pick him up, there were bars on his window, and all his stuff was locked in a cupboard under the stairs." Mr. Weasley nodded, taking this news in stride.

"Okay, so think about it from his perspective. He lives with muggles, so he can't have been exposed to much magic before Hogwarts. If he's got bars on his window and his stuff's locked up, he hasn't got a lot of freedom. You've got those things, plus a family that loves you more than you can possibly imagine," Ron flushed again, "something I can't really imagine Harry has experienced much of based on what you told me," Ron shook his head in agreement, "So I guess all of this," Mr. Weasley gestured about the room in general, "is small, but that doesn't mean it's not a big deal to Harry."

Ron finished drying as quickly as he could. His head was too full to talk, but his father seemed to understand this, and kept companionable silence. Climbing the stairs, he kept weighing the information he knew about Harry's life before and outside of Hogwarts, and comparing it to his own. The problem was, he really couldn't imagine being an orphan or living with muggles. He climbed into bed, still mulling it all over, when he heard Harry turn in his sleep. Some moonlight was streaming in, and Ron could see a smile on his face. Almost reflexively, Ron smiled back, thinking that things like the happy look on his Harry's face might be one of those small things.


End file.
